


Freefall

by NicolaDarkness



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Author uses lots a scientific terms because I can, Bird Shifters, Cultural Differences, Dominant/Submissive dynamics, M/M, Mating seasons, alternative universe, species difference
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-24
Updated: 2017-03-01
Packaged: 2018-07-26 10:52:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7571401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NicolaDarkness/pseuds/NicolaDarkness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Freefall - downward movement under the force of gravity only.</p>
<p>Unfortunately in reality gravity isn’t the only force powerful enough to make people fall.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Crack Shot

**Author's Note:**

> Crack Shot – someone skilled in shooting.

Jean beat his wings faster, angling his body up to climb higher and away from the enraged green-eyed bird behind him. Once again he had gotten in a fight with Eren Jaeger, and though he couldn’t remember what about, he was sure that the other kestrel had started it. The bastard always did.

Currently the two were racing instead of just beating each other for once, just as well since the annual breeding season was coming up and neither really wanted to fight and risk losing plumage in the scuffle. Personally Jean didn’t much care for the season, no one ever showed him any interest and there was honestly no one in his territory that he felt he could form that kind of relationship with. Much to his mother’s displeasure, who would force him to babysit other people’s chicks after every unmated season.

Not that he really minded chicks. At that young an age they couldn’t speak yet, and stayed mostly in their ugly downy form which was easier for him to take care of. They were noisy sure, but he had always preferred chirping instead of screaming. Although he drew the line at looking after older children when his mother had suggested it, the older bird had reluctantly agreed after seeing how the young ones closer to fledging avoided her son.

The babies seemed to like Jean well enough, following him around and chirping at him whenever he got close enough. But any old enough to take their human form permanently avoided the two-toned male like he had a disease. Although the chicks he had sat had not started taking human form and still seemed to follow him around asking questions. His mother reckoned that it was because the older kids just saw his scowl (resting bitch face) and thought he was scary, so they avoided him.

A sudden rush of wind knocked Jean out of his force and steered him off course. He grunted to try and right himself as a cackling Eren flew past him. He was just about to shout out a retort at the cocky bird when an ear-splitting crack shook the sky. A moment later the pain hit and Jean let out an involuntary cry as he began to fall, not being able to concentrate on anything but the pain as he pulled his shattered wing closer to his chest.

He tried to slow his decent, but it’s hard to do with only one wing, and he ended up only causing himself to spin. With no other way to slow his decent or right himself, Jean merely held out his good wing to slow his fall, and hunched in to himself to try and protect his injured limb.

He could see a shadow, he assumed to be Eren’s, dart off in what Jean assumed was the direction of home. They had flown quite far out so Eren’s courter Mikasa wouldn’t find out. What the dominant female saw in the suicidal piece of crap Jean would never know. Not that he was jealous or anything, he hadn’t looked at the dark coloured female since before he fledged. But for some reason Eren refused to believe him. On the plus side Mikasa knew he didn’t and so would now occasionally not scowl at him, and give him a nod of greeting on occasion.

Eren had always been hot-headed, and went on and on about killing humans as if it was possible for birds of their size to do it, even in their own human form he doubted an army of them could stand up to a human gun. But the angry, pig-headed idiot still wanted to, and Jean could quote ‘kill all humans’ and really Jean didn’t see the point. Humans left them alone as long as they stayed out of their way.

Although Jean guessed that having to watch humans shoot down your parents would make you pretty hateful. But you would think after growing up that he would at least listen to reason. Nope. Not Eren. It was his opinion or you were wrong. It was one of the many reasons that the two kestrels did not get along at all.

Speaking of humans, Jean was cultured enough to know a gunshot when he heard it and mentally laughed at how now himself and Eren had something in common. Not that he was ready to go out on a murder spree. But oh Gods his mother would be when she finds out. The dominant female had always been overprotective of her only offspring. Jean’s bearer had died while laying him, ruptured something trying to get him out so soon. So his mother had incubated, hatched and raised him all on his own. Jean supposed he could blame his no shit attitude on being raise by a dominant only.

Although there were still times he felt bad. Like when his mother looked at courting couples. He knew it was illogical, but a part of him felt like he had killed his bearer by being born, that it was his fault his mother was so sad. That if he had never been born his mother would be living happily with her mate. Although he is logical enough not to dwell on these thoughts for too long. His mother had done nothing but do what was best for him, and love him regardless of it all.

Jean mentally cursed his bad luck and cringed when he noticed the rapidly approaching ground was the grey slate colour of the craggy cliffs. A shot of panic spiked through him as he realised he was now in falcon territory, a place that his flock would not go near as the larger birds would not tolerate their kind. And though Jean knew of the horror stories of other birds being caught mid-air and eaten alive he never believe it.

He spoke to soon.

As the slate crags rapidly approached his vision began to blur and he closed his eyes as another wave of pain coursed through him. Then he felt them, large talons wrapping around his outstretched wing and folding it in around his body as the clawed grip closed around his small body.

He would have struggled and screamed if he could. But he hadn’t noticed he was bleeding, and so he didn’t have the strength to protest at the talons caging him in a firm hold as his sight faded and he was plunged into unconsciousness.

Oh well. At least he wouldn’t be conscious when he was eaten.


	2. Stranger Danger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stranger Danger – the potential of an unknown individual to cause harm to others. It is used as a phrase to mainly warn children of the peril that unknown individuals can pose.

Of course as luck would have it, Jean would wake to a splitting headache. Yeah not like everything else in his life had ever given him leeway. At least it took attention off the throbbing pain in his arm and chest.

_“Wait a second.”_ Jean thought as he cracked is eyes open and rolled them down to see his unfeathered chest and left arm wrapped up in bandages _. “No way. They couldn’t have saved me. Something caught me didn’t it?”_

Thankfully the headache seemed to be from his jolting as he awoke, and was clearing enough for him to look around the place he was in. the walls were a slate grey colour, natural stone by the look of it, with only a wooden door on one wall and a hanging hide on a railing which was held up on an opposing wall. The ceiling was covered in crags and would have seemed endless if not for the several candles which were lit on several nooks of the walls at differing heights.

He gently turned his head in order to see more, without bringing on another skull cracking headache and saw the floor covered in a mishmash of different hides, most looked tanned and although soft, it was easy to tell that the hides were strong to keep from claws tearing through them. The bed Jean found himself on, now that he looked was a nest full of soft furs that reminded him of the one his mother used to have for him when he was young. The furs felt so soft on his bare skin, and he was thankful that someone had covered him in a large one to preserve his modesty. As well as his rather thin (and in his opinion scrawny) human form, which he usually avoided and spent the majority of his time in his more natural halfling form, where his feathers could hide his thin build.

The room itself was sparsely furnished. It had a large table with two chairs next to it, and a single chest where he assumed his saviour kept their personal affects. The only other thing was a small fire pit, which was adored by cupboards either side that were covered in tone which Jean assumed acted as cooking surfaces. A couple of small pots and pans dangled off of a small suspended hanger that had hooks to allow each cooking implement to perch on.

As Jean concentrated more he could hear the muffled voices of people talking from beyond the wooden door at the far end of the room. Even muffled it was clear that the parties were having quite a shouting match and Jean began to tremble in fear. He was sure that whoever had saved him must be a falcon, and if that was so then the only reason he would still be alive would be so that the larger bird could have a healthy meal to eat later on.

Eventually one voice seemed to fade out while he heard the sound of approaching footfalls coming closer. the Kestrel huddled under his blanket, peeking out so that he could just see past the nest of furs and watch as the door was quietly swung open to reveal the household's’ owner.

He was a tall male who’s mildly tanned skin was speckled with freckles across his exposed cheeks and arms. His dark hair was longer than Jean’s own and just kissed the other male’s shoulders and was parted down the centre of his scalp. His simple green t-shirt and brown trousers suited him well and his upper clothing was tight enough to show off the muscles of his broad shoulder. Jean would have found him a good specimen, if he wasn’t a falcon and by the smell of him, a dominant one at that.

Jean had never been good with dominants. Regardless that he was actually a male breeder (although he had never told anyone outside of his mother who had held him as he cried on the day he found out). Probably because he was raised to be a dominant himself, so he just clashed with those that tried to show dominance over him.

The stranger seemed to grumble about whomever he seemed to have been arguing with as he made his way over to the chest and started to rummage through it, without even casting a glance in Jean’s direction. After a few moments he seemed to find what he was searching for and closed the chest as he rose, a couple of rolls of tape and bandages in his hands.

It was only has he stepped forward that he finally looked up and the eyes of the two males locked. Jean was about to cry out in a start but was silenced at the yelp which escaped the falcon as he seemingly tripped over his own feet to land on his back side, the rolls dropping to the floor where they unravelled across the hide covered ground. And the larger’s face was covered in shock, his eyes wide in a mixture of shock and panic. Then he opened his mouth and the word vomit began.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t notice that you were awake. Gods I should have been here when you woke up. You still in pain? Is anything wrong with your breathing? I couldn’t tell how damaged your ribs were. I’m not a doctor. And I didn’t want to take you to a doctor because, well, I think that may just make it worse honestly. And I’m getting enough grief for your smell. And I’m such a bad liar. But I’m going to do my best to get you better ok! And no need to worry! I don’t like eating other birds! Kinda creeps me out really, makes me feel like I’m a cannibal. And oh right! I was about to change your bandages and check to make sure that your wounds aren’t getting infected. I had to re-set your arm by breaking it again and it was really freaky because you screamed in your sleep. At least I hope you were asleep. Oh Gods I hope you didn’t wake up while I was doing that did you?”

Jean could do nothing but blink and watch as the man rambled about his health and shivered at the mention of a doctor eating him. Although he was reassured slightly that his host seemed sincere when he spoke of not wanting to eat him. He winced at the mention of his arm being re-broken and was thankful that he had been able to sleep through it. That was a feeling he was glad he had no memory of.

Meanwhile the falcon had scampered round the floor on his knees to pick up the rolls of fabric. Thankfully the bandages hadn’t unrolled too far and the other male ripped off the parts which had touched the floor, a gesture that at least put Jean’s mind at rest to know the other was truly concerned about the kestrel getting an infection and so kept the bandages clean.

“This idiot is supposed to be the monster the elders talk about?” Jean thought, mentally face-palming at his luck. It was just like him to end up having a clumsy imbecile of a rival species to take care of him.

Eventually the falcon stood up and looked down at Jean with a bashful yet reassuring smile as he slowly stepped towards Jean, but the larger male froze as soon as Jean flinched back at the approaching male. The freckled falcon’s face softened and he softened his voice as he spoke to the smaller kestrel.

“I’m sorry. I just want to check your wounds and change your bandages.” He murmured. “How about I introduce myself first, so you feel better. My name is Marco, what’s yours?”

“J-jean.” The kestrel croaked, letting out some cocks to try and clear his dry throat.

While Jean cocked he closed his eyes and didn’t noticed the other male rushing to a nearby pitcher and only hears pouring of water before he opened his eyes to a worried gaze and an outstretch hand containing a cup of water. Jean blinked and slowly raised himself up into a seated position before gingerly taking the cup with a bashful smile, making sure not to brush his fingers against the other male’s.

Jean held the cup in both hands and licked his lips to moisten them before thing slow gulps to allow the water to sink into his mouth and throat. He drank down the lot in a few moments before lowering it down into his lap, wincing as his injured limb twinged in pain before looking back up at the other male with slight scepticism.

“Can I look at your arm and chest now?” Marco, and Jean noted that the name suited him somehow and nodded his consent. “I’m going to have to touch you for that. This ok with you?” to which Jean nods again with Marco’s face lighting up in appreciation.

With Jean’s consent Marco moved and sat the medical implements down on the furs before slowly reaching out towards the bandages that started at Jean’s wrist. All the movements the falcon made were slow as not to spook the smaller bird and he avoided as much skin contact as possible to lesson Jean’s discomfort as much as he could.

Marco unwound the bandages from Jean’s wrist to his shoulder, putting the wooden splints to one side and revealed the extent of the injuries to the kestrel. His arm was covered in ugly purple, black, blue, green and yellow splotches as well as stitches sticking out of a couple of different points on his arm, thankfully those looked only a little pink and not infected at all. Which Jean was immensely grateful for.

After a quick glance up at the kestrel Marco slowly moves to the bandages on his chest and unravelling them to expose the smooth skin what was covered in faded yellow bruises. Jean almost sighed as at least that meant that the injuries to his chest weren’t that bad, and since he was at least breathing fine it seems that the major harm was to his arm and none of his ribs were broken at least.

“Is your breathing ok?”  Marco asked in a soft voice, his eyes searching Jean’s face from traces of pain.

Jean nods again, not really knowing what to say more than to give his consent to being treated.

“I have to apply an alcohol based rub to your stitches now. It’s to stop infection. Not all of them are fully closed yet, so it might sting.” Marco explained, looking at the other who after a moment seemed to grit his teeth before giving a stiff nod and braced himself for the sting of pain.

Jean let out a sharp hiss regardless when an alcohol loaded cotton ball on a short stick gently stroked across the first stitched up gash, being careful not to pull on the stitches. Jean remains stiff as a board as Marco goes over each held together wound and when the falcon was finally done he reached for the bandages before pausing.

“I don’t think your ribs are damages so I am only going to redress and splint your arm now.” Marco explains and after a moment begins the delicate task of winding the fabric around the injured limb and securing the splint sticks in place with the white cloth.

Once done Marco picked up the alcohol, tape and bandages before slowly rising and moving back over to the chest where he placed the items before pulling out a navy coloured t-shit before closing the lid and moving back over to the nest. With a kind smile he holds out the neatly folded fabric towards the smaller bird.

“You can use this for now. You had no clothes when I caught you, so I hope you don’t mind borrowing mine for now. I promise that they are clean.” Marco says, rubbing his neck rather sheepishly.

“Thanks.” Jean says in a slightly baffled tone. He takes the fabric out of the falcons hands and slips it gingerly over his injured arm first, winging at the slight pull on his splints, before pulling his head and good arm through the other two holds. Then he smoothed it out while subtly moving the furs to see that he had indeed been covered by a loose pair of black trousers.

Once Jean looked back up wearily at Marco to see the falcon still shuffling near the bed awkwardly with a small redness to his cheeks. Jean blinked, still very confused and without a lot to say, after all he had not had a lot of time to process what was going on. And so merely waited to see what the larger bird would do next.

“Well, I bet you're hungry right?” Marco says with a bashful smile before moving over to light a fire and starts setting up a large pot of water to boil before collecting tools and a variety of vegetables and meats to cut up. “Is there anything you don’t like?”

“No, nothing really.” Jean stated in a befuddled voice and watched the other bird go about preparing a meal.

The falcon was focused on his task and quick with his knife cuts which both impressed Jean and made him shiver at the morbid context attached to the blade skills. At least this gave the smaller male time to process as the (what seemed to be a soup of some sort) meal was cooked in a content silence only broken by the dark haired male's occasional humming that was slightly off tune at points.

Jean thought that maybe the falcon was fattening him up and watched carefully as several strange looking vegetables were cut up and dropped into the large pot of liquid. The more Jean thought, the more the true extent of the situation started to dawn on him.

He was stuck, relying on a stranger. Not only a stranger, but one who’s species was competing with his own and even known to attack his own kind for merely being near. Not only that, but falcons had the motives and the means to kill kestrels. And to top it up he was severely injured. To the point that he couldn’t shift and certainly couldn’t fly. Even if he could he had no idea where he was and from what the falcon implied, he was in a large flock that would sooner rip him apart than let me escape.

Before he could run his mind into the ground anymore, he heard a slurping noise that caught Jean’s attention along with the smell of warm hearty food. He felt his stomach rumble and saliva was starting to water at the smell. And he blinks back to focus as Marco turns and places the two bowls on the dining table before turning back to Jean.

“Do you think that you can move to sit at the table? I can help you over if you can’t.” The falcon offers with another soft smile that both warmed and unnerved the kestrel at the same time.

“N-no my legs feel fine. So I should be ok.” Jean stuttered, not liking the idea of anymore physical contact than necessary with someone that could potentially kill him.

So with slow movements Jean swung his legs over the side of the nest and used his good harm to lever himself up onto his feet, but wobbled rather violently. He jolted suddenly as Marco appeared close to him, in case the smaller male was to fall over or need assistance.

Jean shivered which seemed to get Marco to back off and Jean took a breath before moving slowly over to the chair, being careful to cradle his injured arm so that it would cause the least pain possible. Eventually he sat down at one of the seats, and a moment later Marco joined him on opposite ends.

The falcon took a moment to see if Jean would start eating, but after several moments of stillness Marco began to eat, figuring that it would show that he had put nothing in the food. Slowly Jean followed, consuming the rich soup slowly as he was using his non-dominant arm to eat and did not want to spill it all over himself in front of a potential enemy.

And so the two ate in awkward silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All the cookies and rainbows flow to my amazing beta reader Hannah!! XD  
> (Who everyone should go and give all there love to here: http://liberalanimetrash.tumblr.com/ )  
> Comments are always welcome!!!!!
> 
> Also I have a tumblr for those that are interested: http://x-jeanmarco-x.tumblr.com/ (my fan blog)  
> Personal: http://nicoladarkness.tumblr.com/


	3. Wash

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wash - an act of washing something or an instance of being washed.

“Are you sure you don’t need any help?” the worried voice called from below the hide curtain as Jean brushed the warm, wet rag over his bare legs.

“I-I’m fine!” Jean called back, the panic in his voice far too obvious for his own liking.

Jean was not happy. Not happy at all. As if he hadn’t been humiliated enough in the last, well, now that he thought about it Jean didn’t know how long it had been since he was shot. By the healing of his wounds it seemed to be at least a couple of days. Shifters healed fast, but not that fast. What worried Jean more was that he wasn’t overly dirty, which meant that the falcon had not only dressed him while the kestrel was unconscious, but had washed him as well.

Jean’s cheeks warmed in embarrassment was he finished washing his legs. The thought of being seen in his human form was utterly awful. And knowing that another person, a predator had touched his pale skin made him a little bit sick. Although the falcon had done nothing outwardly to show that he was anything but genuine in his care, Jean would not forget the feeling of talons wrapped around his small feathered body.

But at least Jean was beginning to believe that Marco at least didn’t eat other birds. Maybe he was allergic or something? But that only dulled the fear. After all if his own species bought live food as courting gifts (usually small rodents) than it would make sense that a smaller bird would make a great gift. At least to kestrels the bigger the animal gifted, the better the gift looked as only a really strong shifter could catch large prey.

No Jean was not happy about any of this at all. The most he could do for now was stay on his captor’s good side and recover swiftly so that he could then plan a way to get out of here. And the best way to do that would be to engage the falcon in conversation. But subtly asking questions was not his style. But it couldn’t help to at least try, right?

“You sure?” Marco called out, not sounding all that convinced.

Jean paused a moment before putting the wash cloth back in the soapy bucket he was using before drying them quickly with one of the towels in the small alcove of the bathroom. It had a large basin that could be filled with water to bathe in, but Jean was only sitting at the edge of the cold tub so that less water got onto the smooth slate floor. The small space had a toilet and sink, which was odd to Jean, they didn’t have any in his village.

He had been shocked when Marco had turned the metal atop the pipes and water had flowed out. In any other circumstance he would have asked a million and one questions about it. It looked like something humans would have, and despite the fear of their weapons, Jean had seen their large shiny things and would love to tinker with them.

His friend Armin was worse than he was, but that was because he had been rescued from a net by a human before being set free and so didn’t fear them. He also taught Jean the names of several human creations. This included his most treasured possession, which he had found when he was young in the woods and had tinkered with since. Armin called it a watch, and it was used to measure time. It was simple to use, but Jean loved the insides which he had taken out and replaced more times than he could remember. Since then he had always been fascinated by human tools and would sneak off to raid known human dump sites to scavenge for different parts.

Armin called him a nerd. Jean couldn’t really deny it.

The bathroom itself was through the hide curtain that he had seen earlier and was dimly lit by only two candles at opposing ends of the small space. The structures within called to question just how falcons viewed humans. After all the room he was in seemed to be average and not overly decorative, which made Jean assume Marco was of average status in his flock. Anyone of a high rank would have walls adorned with shiny stones and fine clothes, which the rooms were not. So it was safe to assume all falcons had human structured bathing spaces.

Which begged the question, were falcons and humans working together? Did falcons not fear humans? Gods forbid that the two species shared close quarters, because if they did Jean was going to freak out. Partly at the amazing tools they would have, and mostly at being so close to something which had almost, and still might kill him.

Which brought his thoughts back round to his captor and carer and his question. If he didn’t accept help, would the other bird forcefully check to see if Jean was clean? Would he now allow him to wash himself in the future? Technically the falcon didn’t need to ask Jean to do anything or comply with what he said, after all the freckled male was larger, with higher muscle mass and in familiar territory. It might be easier to let him help. Jean couldn’t reach his back with his dominant hand out of commission in its splint.

“W-well….” Jean called, and paused to take a calming breath. “I c-can’t really reach my back. So I wouldn’t mind some help with that please.”

Jean chose his words carefully, that showed that he was reluctant but did need help and was willing to let Marco assist him, but in a specific task only. He heard some shuffling followed by footsteps as he heard the other approach from behind the curtain. Jean made sure to angle his body so that his back was facing the door and curled into himself to protect his injury, holding himself stiff at the sound of the tarp being pulled aside.

“Sure I can.” The falcon said, and Jean turned his head to see the taller male’s bright smile.

With carefully slow movements the larger male knelt down on his knees outside of the metal basin keeping his eyes on Jean’s as he did so and only looked away to gab the wash cloth from the bucket, rinsing it out slightly of excess the water. Then Marco looked back to Jean’s face and gave the other a reassuring smile and a tilt of his head, silently asking for permission.

Jean blinked back at the large earth coloured eyes and felt a strange bafflement at the hesitance. Everything that he was told about falcons said that they were violent birds that thought first and were known for stealing other raptor's food. Not only that dominant birds didn’t ask for things, most took them. The exception being their mates and offspring. So the seeking of permission was odd and confusing to Jean.

Jean was use to fighting for what he wanted and refusing to bend to a dominant when asked. He thanked his mother for that. So you could see where his confusion and weariness was coming from. But after a moment of consideration he decided to give a nod of consent, which earned the kestrel a bright smile much to the smaller bird’s embarrassment. What he would give to be in his halfling form right now so he could hide his flushed face in his breast feathers.

Marco then gently pressed the sodden wash cloth into the skin of Jean’s shoulders and started almost massaging the skin with it. Jean held himself stiff for as long as he could, but unlike most of his kind he didn’t receive much physical displays of affection, and only his mother had ever rubbed his back. He was scared to find himself relaxing into the soothing touch and had to stop himself from letting the purr in his chest come out.

Marco took his time cleaning the kestrels back. The freckled male had never seen such smooth pale skin before, there were no freckles to be seen and it fascinated the dark haired bird. He was aware that the other was not comfortable with this, and so decided to pass the time by talking to his guest. He could only imagine how stressful it was for Jean not knowing what was going on.

“I know the bathroom isn’t much to talk about, but it does the job. I haven’t been living here long so it’s all I’ve managed to set up yet.” Marco explained and to his surprise the smaller bird responded.

“It’s a lot different from the ones we have at home.” Jean murmured, eyeing the sink with intrigue.

“What?” Marco blinked down at Jean, seeing his eyes on the sink. “Do you not even have plumbing?”

“Plumbing?” Jean blinked, frowning at the new word. “I don’t know what that means.”

“Well running water. Please tell me you have that at least?” Marco asked, shocked at how it was possible for people to live without and his frown deepened as he saw the two-toned male shake his head at his question.

“We use wells, and there is a stream that flows down some rock structures that get used sometimes in the summer.” Jean explained. “How do you make the water get from your well out of the metal tubes?”

“Erm, I think it’s to do with putting the water under pressure?” Marco said blinking, not expecting the kestrel to be so interested. “I got my sister to do it. She’s better with these things than I am.”

Jean seemed to slump at the words and Marco could only guess it was because the falcon could not answer his questions. Marco felt bad about it and decided to ask his sister about how it worked, in the pretext that he would need to know if something ever broke in order to fix it himself. That sounded believable.

“Well I’m meeting my sister tomorrow so I will ask her then.” Marco voiced and Jean seemed to jump at his words and nod. “But I can’t believe you live like that. Do your people not read books?”

“Of course!” Jean squeaked aghast. “But mostly novels or biology books. There aren’t much on human engineering.” Jean finished with a grumble and Marco allowed a smile to form at how the smaller bird pouted about this.

“Well I still have some books on humans and how they make their houses. I think my sister left her book on cars here as well.” Marco mused, moving on to washing the others lower back. “I’ll get them out later if you like? It would give you something to do while I go out tomorrow at least.”

“T-that’s alright.” Jean stuttered at the kind offer. “I don’t need that.”

“Nonsense.” Marco said, blowing off the smaller birds protests. “You’ll be bored stiff while I’m out. So it will be something nice to do.”

Jean didn’t know how to respond to this and decided to clam up. He had revealed too much about his own people, making his species seem inferior somehow, and he didn’t like it. Not only that but he had forgotten that he was a prisoner here and was lucky the falcon didn’t seem to notice Jean’s raised voice.

Marco seemed to finish his task and dumped the rag back into the bucket before standing and sending Jean a soft smile. The falcon reached over and grabbed a dry towel and handed it to Jean, who took it with a slight nervous pause.

“I’m going to go and look for the books now.” The dark haired male said and half turned while raiding the curtain. “Take your time getting dressed, but please tell me if you need any help with it.”

And with that the falcon retreated back into the main room leaving Jean alone once more with his thoughts. He felt his face heat up at the other's offer of help getting dressed and once he took a deep breath he climbed to his feet, taking a moment to quickly dry his back with the offered towel and then used the large basin as support to step out of it, then to steady himself as he slipped on the dark trousers. Getting his top back on was more difficult, but now that his skin was clean again at least it felt better against his chest and back.

Jean was reluctant to leave the quiet of the small space. But at least now there was something he could do. The conversation had one positive outcome. Marco was going to leave at some point tomorrow. And although Jean was no way ready to escape yet, he would at least have time to snoop around for information.

A sigh escaped his mouth and a smile crawled onto his face. Yes, he felt much better now that he was clean. His anxiety over the situation had lessened some now that he had the start of a plan to get out of here. To get home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All the cookies and rainbows flow to my amazing beta reader Hannah!! XD  
> (Who everyone should go and give all there love to here: http://liberalanimetrash.tumblr.com/ )  
> Comments are always welcome!!!!!
> 
> Also I have a tumblr for those that are interested: http://x-jeanmarco-x.tumblr.com/ (my fan blog)  
> Personal: http://nicoladarkness.tumblr.com/


	4. Snoop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snoop – investigate or look around furtively in an attempt to find out something, especially information about someone's private affairs.

It was late the next day when Jean finally had a chance to look around his prison cell. Marco had explained where things were and told him not to use the fire for cooking because with only one arm it was dangerous. It was still odd for Jean to hear someone explain things in general concern for his well-being, let alone from a species which he was taught to fear.

The final explanation before the speckled falcon left was that he would be locking the door so that no one walked in. He asked Jean to please hide if he heard anyone trying to get in, as Marco was the only one who had the key. The dark haired male had even suggested places where he could hide easily with his injuries and was asked if he needed anything before the larger male finally left.

Jean would have laughed in any situation. Seriously, the falcon was acting like an overprotective mother.

But now that he had finally left, locking the door behind him, Jean was free to roam the room unwatched. Although he did wait a while to make sure that the other bird was truly gone before he got up out of the nest and decided where to start his investigation.

The first point of call was the large chest which he had seen Marco pull out bandages and clothes from. It seemed to be where most of the falcon’s personal effects were kept, bar the small collection of books which were lined up on a rock out crop on the wall, which would be Jean’s next point of call once he had emptied the chest of its contents.

He seated himself down carefully in front of it, using his one good arm to slow his movements so that he didn’t aggravate his bruised chest and broken arm. Once comfortable Jean reached forward and unlatched the front of the wooden chest before lifting the lid back to reveal what it contained inside.

Jean peered in and was mildly disappointed to find only bits of cloth stacked neatly while the other side seemingly filled with medical supplies along with pieces of stationary. He reached in and carefully lifted the stack of fabric up to see if there was anything hidden underneath it, but was again disappointed to find nothing but the wooden bottom. 

Next he moved on to sifting through the papers, attempting to keep the stack neat but most were blank and a few hand ink stains on them that seemed to be from a leaking bottle. He let out a huff as he once again reached the bare bottom of the chest without learning more about his captor. Apart from that he seemed to be a very neat and tidy person. That and well organised judging from all the spare supplies of ink, paper and first aid equipment.

With a soft huff Jean closed the lid and re-latched the fastening before he started the slow process of moving to stand on his feet. He was now more than ever appreciating that he was a shifter and has some experience in his full bird form of standing without the help of his other limbs for support. Although this did take far longer to do on his gangly human legs than he would have liked.

Eventually, after the initial head rush that was slowly becoming all too familiar now, had worn off he took slow steps over to the collection of books arranged in some unknown order on their shelf. Jean skimmed the titles and found a lot of them seemed to be novels of some sort and after pulling one out the kestrel fought a snigger at the silk clad land on the cover of an obvious romance novel.

He quickly put it back and moved on, even as the image of Marco curled up in his nest reading with a soft smile surfaced from the previous evening. The falcon had made himself a poor excuse of a nest over near the door and had curled up with a book in his arms. The blankets and pillows were in short supply and had been fetched out of his chest. Jean assumed these were used in the winter months as an addition to the main nest to cope with the lower temperatures that came with the season.

Next to the romance books there were a few plant identifying books which Jean skipped over before his hands landing on a taller book he pulled out to study properly. And then Jean promptly started to laugh, loudly and without care, clutching the book to his stomach with tears in his eyes after reading the book's title.

‘ _Courting for Dummies_ ’

Why the other male had it, Jean didn’t really know. Maybe falcons had different aspects of attraction to a mate, but the thought of the caring bird studying and taking the advice of the book was just too funny to not cackle at the mental image that appeared.

Eventually Jean calmed his loud voice in to soft giggles and replaced the book back in its place on the shelf without reading it. As he was sure that if he did Jean would start himself off laughing again and as pleasant as the thought was he was on a fact-finding mission. He may not get this kind of opportunity again for a while.

Moving along he skimmed the titles to a couple more books on animals, not that that surprised Jean. Marco looked like an animal lover and the smaller male was surprised to be the only other occupant of the dwelling when he thought about it.

Eventually he came across what looked like hiking maps folded up and he pulled the lot off the shelf before moving over to the small table and sat himself down to look over them properly. He put three of the maps aside and opened up the first. It was of a mountain that seemed to be mostly covered in forest, judging by the amount of green. Jean didn’t recognise any of the formations or rivers so he quickly re-folded it and placed it to the side, separate from the other map pile before taking the nest map from the top.

The next two maps were both of valleys which Jean didn’t recognize either and he felt his eyebrows bending down lower to a deeper frown, as he found nothing of use to him so far. He finally reached for the last map and opened it out onto the table when a thicker rectangle of paper fell out and onto the map. This immediately whipped the frown from the shifter’s face. Blinking down at the small card he noticed the chicken scratch writing on the bottom corner and raised it towards his face to be able to read it.

_“Dear Marco, the view from my place is still better than yours!! J_

_Love your Sis x”_

Jean blinked at the writing in confusion and it took him a moment to notice the small drawn face, but it seemed to click in his head what he object he was holding truly was. His heart rate sped up as he turned the card around to look at the image on the front.

The photo was in colour which surprised Jean first. It was taken from a high point and went down in to a valley surrounded by stone cliffs that were adorned with small houses blended into the rock face. There was a singular structure that seemed a long way off from the others and had a large red circle around it with an arrow pointing to the word _‘Marco’_ in a bright red ink.

Jean knew exactly what he was looking at, he had hit the jackpot. This was an image of where he was being held. Not only that but the home seemed to be far off from the others and the isolation made Jean’s heart soar with hope. Segregation meant when he escaped he would be less likely to be noticed running out of the house.

Jean then moved to look at the map below and he felt his cheeks start to ache with how wide his smile had stretched. He isolated the point where he was being held quickly then scouted out paths in the area which would be quick to travel along. He recognised a small out crop to the very far side of the map, on the opposite side to where his prison was. He knew it was a good two hour flight home. Although he would like to fly back he resigned himself to planning to travel back on foot, which might take him several days judging by the terrain he would be transgressing.

He sat there for a very long time trying to memorize the paths he would take as well as the major landmarks what he needed to look out for. He finally pulled his eyes away when he started to lose the feeling in his rear end. He stretched his arms above his head listening with satisfaction to the pops coming from his back before slouching back for a moment to allow his muscles to relax.

After a moment Jean gathered the map up and carefully re-inserted the photograph into the folds of the paper and then gathered the rest of the maps in his good arm. He gingerly stood up, wincing at the painful tingling at the tops of his thighs before taking a few shaky steps back over to the shelf. He then put the maps back in their correct place.

Jean didn’t know how long he had sat there but judging by the lack of feeling in his arse he decided that it must have been a few hours, so the falcon may return soon. The kestrel hobbled his way back to the large nest and lowered himself into it gently. After a bit of shuffling about he finally found a position that didn’t make his arm ache or his ass hurt before snuggling in and turning his head to breathe in the scent of the furs.

This had become Jean’s new favourite habit since his arrival and he tried not to think about it too much. The scent which clung to the furs was extremely comforting and never failed to relax him into a dozy state which was very easy to fall asleep once in it. He knew what the scent was. He had caught more than enough whiffs directly from the source. But he pushed that knowledge down and locked it away. And refused to acknowledge it.

After a while he heard the sound of metal keys in the lock and relaxed further as the door swung open, then shut. In his sleepy state Jean registered Marco’s voice but not the words he was saying as the low and now familiar voice pushed him over into a deep dreamless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All the cookies and rainbows flow to my amazing beta reader Hannah!! XD  
> (Who everyone should go and give all there love to here: http://liberalanimetrash.tumblr.com/ )  
> Comments are always welcome!!!!!
> 
> Also I have a tumblr for those that are interested: http://x-jeanmarco-x.tumblr.com/ (my fan blog)  
> Personal: http://nicoladarkness.tumblr.com/


	5. Proposition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Proposition – a suggested scheme or plan of action.

Another evening had passed with Jean sleeping through most of it, only waking up for a quick meal, the majority of which he was half asleep for and then returned to his nest. Sleep was important for healing, so his mother had always told him whenever he got sick. But the almost constant drowsiness was very disconcerting for him. Jean didn’t like appearing vulnerable around his own mother, let alone a potential threat.

But now that he was up and his brain was starting to function again he realised just how bored he really was. He did take Marco up on the books he had bought him that apparently the falcon’s sister owned. Jean had tentatively opened the books and was soon swept in on the materials that insulated the pipes and how the pumps which kept the water flowing worked.

Jean would have been confused if he had seen the bright smile that took over Marco’s face as he watched the other bird excitedly read through plumbing manuals as well as some smaller books on electricity and fuel. The falcon had to cover his mouth to stop a chuckle from escaping him at the smaller raptor’s excitement about something that he himself took for granted.

As endearing as it was to see the smaller male so absorbed in a book with a glint in his golden eyes, Marco soon discovered a problem with supplying his guest with reading material by the time dinner rolled around. It seemed that while engrossed within a book the other bird forgot all his apprehension or fear and blatantly told the falcon to ‘get lost’ which said freckled bird was sure that the other wouldn’t have told him in any other situation.

After the gruff responses to his calls and to trying to shake the other out of his book Marco was at a loss and let out an exasperated huff. Well he was within right to act more forcefully now wasn’t he? He had tried more gentle means but at this point dinner was getting cold and as much as the kestrel enjoyed books, the bi-coloured bird needed to eat to aid his healing and so could not skip dinner.

Marco had had enough, and so with a quick flick of his wrist he plucked the book from the other male’s hand with a soft smile.

“Hey!” Jean barked, whipping round with a glare at whoever had dared to steal a book from him, only to freeze and pale at the sight of the falcon holding it.

“Dinners ready.” Marco said with a little shake of his head. “Although you seem to be getting a lot better now you will still need to eat to heal completely. I’m sure the book won’t run away while we eat.”

“Sorry.” Jean whimpered, cheeks flushing in embarrassment. And once again thanked the gods that the other raptor seemed to have a mild nature and took no insult to his acts, although he still felt the need to explain himself. “There aren’t a lot of books at home, and I love reading the ones that we do have that I forget myself.”

“That’s quite alright.” Marco said chuckling at the others cute response. “It is not a bad thing to be sure, and I can tell that you enjoy reading so all is well.”

At the affirmation that he was in no trouble, Jean make his way over to the table, followed by Marco where the two ate quietly. Marco was also happy to see that the smaller bird seemed to enjoy the meals he cooked for him and found himself staring a bit too much at the others slight smile which unknowingly crossed Jeans face whenever he took a particularly nice mouthful.

Marco finished first which gave him time to better observe his guest. He knew the other was wary of him, a logical thing to do when in the hands of a stranger and of a fellow predator. Although the falcon found the other bird wary but firm nature refreshing, after all from the smell of him the kestrel was a breeder. Not that Jean acted like any of the breeders that Marco had ever met, those had all thrown themselves at him with blasts of pheromones that made him gag and sneeze.

But Jean’s scent was barely there, and if he hadn’t spent so long dressing the other’s wound Marco would say he was a dominant. It was a pleasant change to be sure. And besides, Marco had always hated the term ‘breeder’ as it just felt too derogatory. But alas his culture was one that would not allow anyone who could bare a child any sort of responsibility or job and families would mate their children off if they presented as such.

From what small information he had gotten from Jean over the past days their cultures were very different. While falcon’s had more human-like technology to use and so more knowledge, kestrel’s appeared to have more basic amenities. However in regards to classes there didn’t seem to be much difference, as Jean described being able to go out and travel alone regardless of his breeding ability so Marco only assumed that their social structure was more balanced. That made sense if they had less amenities to ease their living then all had to work hard for what they had.

This thought just made Marco’s small smile widen, as it was a culture that appealed more to his personality. And he would admit to himself that it made the smaller bird all the more appealing to him. After all, strength was strength regardless of presentation and from what Marco could tell, Jean was strong.

Soon the other bird was finished and glanced longingly back at the nest and the book which had been left open on top of it. Marco let out a low chuckle at the other's obvious thirst for knowledge as he collected their plates and cutler, placing them in warm water to soak before washing his hands. Then he reached for the medical supplies which he had left out ready to attend to his guest.

“Don’t worry you can get back to reading, but you need your wounds checked and re-dressed first.” Marco explained not quite holding in his amused chuckle.

“R-right.” Jean sputtered and the heat returning to his cheeks as he let out a soft huff. He was becoming far too easily flustered around the other male.

“Would you feel more comfortable in the nest or is here ok?” Marco asks with a smile still plastered to his face.

“The nest.” Jean said without really needing to think about it, but realising how bold the statement seemed he was about to add something but the falcon brightened and nodded before making his way over to the collection of furs which left Jean to scramble after.

Once the two were seated properly they began the awkward task of removing Jean’s bandages and split from his arm. Thankfully over the time they had been together both males had become more accustomed to the action. At least Jean did to the point of not flinching every time Marco brushed his skin while treating his injuries.

It only took a few moments for practised hands to remove the off-white cloth and splint to reveal the bruised skin underneath. Marco took the injured limb in his large but gentle hands and examined it with care, softly rotating it while watching the kestrel’s face for any signs of pain. Then the limb was bent slowly at the elbow and Marco let out a pleased hum as the limb folded in fully with the smaller bird only showing a slight bit of discomfort at the movements.

“It looks like your arm is all set and that your joints are all still working. So I think we can finally get rid of the splint.” Marco finally said with a beaming smile. “Seems like you’re almost all healed up now.”

“Yeah…” Jean whispered, looking down at his now bruised shoulder and arm with a small smile at the thought of being able to use it again.

“Well I’m just going to put on some more salve on your bruises and we can look at getting those stitches out. The skin seems to be healed nicely around your punctures.” Marco said mostly to himself with a kind smile and a feeling of warmth in his chest at the smaller bird’s happy expression.

“O-okay.” Jean stuttered, his smile dropping at the mention of having to have his stitches taken out, which Marco picked up on and shot him a reassuring smile as he opened a small tub of cream.

“Don’t worry I’m going to put some cream on your arm to numb it slightly before I cut your stitches so it won’t hurt.” Marco explained before reaching out with a lathered hand to rub the lotion into the kestrel’s skin.

“Oh.” Jean said blinking as he watched the freckled digits spread the numbing lotion over his arm. “Thanks.”

Marco just shrugged and smiled at the other bird as he pulled away once he was satisfied with the amount of the cream he had rubbed softly into Jean’s skin.

“Now just let me know when it’s working.” Marco asked. “It should start feeling cold and a little tingly at first, then I should be able to remove the stitches.”

Jean nodded and after a moment started to feel his arm start tingling and he pressed on his own skin to check to see if it had worked and was mildly surprised to only feel a slight pressure when he ran his fingers over his stitches. With a nod of consent from the smaller male, Marco finally set to work with a pair of scissors to snip the stitches before using some small tweezers to pull the bits of thread out of his skin.

Jean sat in slight awe as he watched the thread easily go from his flesh with only feeling a slight pulling sensation on his skin. Only a few small bubbles of blood appeared from the thread holes which were quickly dabbed away with a clean wet cloth by Marco’s practised hands. Hands which Jean couldn’t help but stare at with how much larger they were then his own, along with how much smoother the falcon’s skin felt when it brushed against his own.

“There, all done.” Marco chirped as he sat back with a beaming smile to look at the now stitch free limb. “I don’t think we even need the bandages now, you healed up a lot quicker than I expected to be honest.”

“Yeah. Thanks a lot for this.” Jean said, looking up at the other male and allowing a genuine thankful smile to spread over his face.

“Don’t mention it.” Marco waved off. “Although I would give yourself another full night of sleep before attempting to change at all. Give the bruises a chance to go down.”

“More sleep is always good.” Jean agreed while pulling his shirt back on and allowing his bad arm to stretch fully now that it was no longer confined to a splint.

“But it would be best to not overdo it tomorrow. I know you may feel a lot better, but your still a bit week so don’t push yourself.” Marco chided with worry in a tone that never failed to bring a smile to the smaller bird’s face.

“I won’t go flying round just yet.” Jean shot back, rolling his eyes and relaxing back into the furs. “But I will be glad to have my plumage back. I hate being so naked all the time.”

“Wait,” Marco said with a frown. “So you don’t usually take this form when you’re just lounging at home or something?”

“No, it far too scrawny and it gets cold really easily.” Jean explained with some confusion at Marco’s frown. “In all honesty this is the longest I’ve been in this form since I was a fledgling.”

“So the half form is normal for you then?” Marco asked becoming concerned. “Oh no! Does that mean I’ve made you uncomfortable being like this?”

“Oh no not really.” Jean assured, raising his hands in a placating gesture. “It made feel better that I wasn’t the only one unfeathered. But I think it’s another difference between our species.”

“There seems to be a lot.” Marco said thoughtfully. “But I’m glad that I haven’t upset you. Falcon’s only tend to show their half form during war or mating so it was a bit strange to hear you talking about walking around like that.”

“Really?!” Jean said, jaw dropping slightly. “That’s so weird. As if feathers can only be used for fighting or fucking. That’s such an animal attitude to things.”

“I agree with you there.” Marco sighed. “It may be why we have such a large military to be honest. Just so dominants can have a chance to let their feathers out. But it’s not a good reason for it.”

“That’s just sucky.” Jean grumbled.

After a pause of silence Marco got up and went to clean his scissors and to throw out the dirty bandages, as well as put the lotion away. It gave Jean a pause to think and he had a sudden thought occur to him that once noticed refused to leave his head. It was risky, especially after hearing about how falcon culture was, but Jean was the kind of guy who couldn’t help but take risks. And the curiosity was far too great for him not to take a leap of faith with his current roommate.

“So, you won’t mind me taking on my half form tomorrow will you?” Jean asked hesitantly, finally breaking the silence.

“Of course not.” Marco said, turning around and giving the other a soft smile. “But I will be staying in just to make sure that you don’t strain yourself to much.”

“Oh right, because I was wondering…” Jean paused and rubbed his neck in a bashful manner. “If you wanted to, you could, maybe, try hanging out in your half form with me? Only if you want to that is. And I thought that maybe you would like to try it? And I would probably feel better not being the only one fluffed up you know.”

Jean rambled on looking down at his feet which had starting fidgeting as his agitation and apprehension rose. Although he didn’t notice the falcon’s approach, nor the bright smile on Marco’s face as he stopped to stand in front of the other almost vibrating in happiness until the other chose to finally look up.

“I would love to Jean.” Marco chirped, almost bouncing on his feet in happiness. “I love trying out new things. And honestly I’m not sure why I haven’t tried to spend more down time in my half form. Especially with how much I coop myself up in here.”

“Really?” Jean breathed in relief, glad that the other wasn’t offended which soon turned into a happiness at the thought of seeing Marco in a new light, although the kestrel wasn’t entirely sure why the thought appealed to him so much. “That’s great! I’m sure you will like it.”

“It’s a plan then!” Marco said, now bouncing around the room as he tiding up.

The falcon seemed to be too excited to sleep tonight and kept Jean up asking questions about how things felt different in the other form, or theorising on how different the two could be. But eventually he seemed to realise his blunder and sheepishly apologised for keeping the still injured bird up and the two settled down in their respective nests for a long sleep.

Although neither would dwell on the fact that both were looking forward to seeing the other in their feathers more than they were being in their own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All the cookies and rainbows flow to my amazing beta reader Hannah!! XD  
> (Who everyone should go and give all there love to here: http://liberalanimetrash.tumblr.com/ )  
> Comments are always welcome!!!!!
> 
> Also I have a tumblr for those that are interested: http://x-jeanmarco-x.tumblr.com/ (my fan blog)  
> Personal: http://nicoladarkness.tumblr.com/


	6. Semiplume

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Semiplume. - A feather having a plumy or downy web with the shaft of an ordinary feather which provide form, aerodynamics, and insulation. They also play a role in courtship displays.

He’d been putting it off. They both had really.

Both birds had woken up and it seemed that the jitters had gotten to them both after a night of restless sleep. Jean kept thinking that Marco was waiting till after they had eaten, then after they had both washed up, and now it seemed after he had finished cleaning the home. Jean didn’t know who felt more nervous. But he was starting to think that the falcon was waiting for him to bring it up, after all, it had been Jean’s idea in the first place.

Jean sat in the main nest watching the larger male potter around with a broom and cloth, tidying up the very few things that were out of place and cleaning the surfaces that he passed. The freckled bird had been on his cleaning spree for an hour and a half now, an hour of which he had spent scrubbing the bathroom and finally it seemed there was nothing much else for Marco to clean. Jean was beginning to think cleaning was one of the falcon’s nervous habits, not that the kestrel was much better. Jean chewed his lips when he was nervous. And he had had the taste of his own blood in his mouth since after they had had breakfast hours ago. He also, to his embarrassment, tended to nest. A very stereotypical bearer trait that he tried to quell, but he still found himself re-arranging the furs of the nest he was in if he stopped consciously forcing himself to not do it. He only hoped that Marco was too busy cleaning or that the Jean was being subtle with his movements.

Thankfully the falcon seemed to be preoccupied with re-arranging his books in the corner of the room, and now that Jean concentrated, the other appeared to be just flipping through pages at random, seemingly to keep his hands busy. To be frank, Jean had had enough of all the awkward silence. He could never stand awkward situations, and unlike usual, he wasn’t able to run away from it till it went away. Unfortunately being confined in a space with a single person made it impossible. Time to do something for once.

Taking a deep breath Jean stood up from out of the nest and slowly made his way over to the other male, stopping near him in the middle of the large space.

“Marco?” the smaller bird asked causing the other to jump and turn around to face him.

“S-sorry Jean!” the falcon stuttered taking a calming breath. “Do you need something?”

“Well I was wondering if you still wanted to try shifting?” Jean asked, sighing and rubbing the back of his neck (a habit that he had gotten from the falcon which he always denied).

“Yes! Of course!” Marco responded, placing the last book back on the shelf. “So how do you want to do this?”

“Well it depends really.” Jean sighed frowning in thought. “What are you like in your half form?”

“No different I don’t think.” Marco blinked, mirroring the smaller birds frown. “I just don’t want to do something offensive. Like anything I need to do differently?”

That made Jean pause and think for a bit. Although he was getting used to guiding the dominant bird, it still surprised him each time Marco asked for confirmation. So now he had to think how to handle the situation. And it gave him a warm feeling in his chest (not that he would ever admit to it) with the falcon allowing him the room to make decisions, seemingly for his own comfort.

“Just keep acting like you are now.” Jean explained meeting Marco’s gaze. “Just because we grow some feathers doesn’t mean we change how we act. We are the same people.”

“Thank goodness.” Marco sighed, a small smile softening his features. “I hate how other falcons change their attitude when they put on their feathers. It’s always creeped me out how I’m expected to turn into this asshole just because I shift.”

“Yeah, that sounds stupid to me.” Jeans smiles back. Mildly relieved that the larger bird wasn’t going to start changing his personality so suddenly on him. “So do you want to go first then?”

“You sure?” Marco asked. “I mean I will, but I thought you were itching to shift?”

“Yeah well…” Jean frowned and took in a deep breath. Reminding himself how honest Marco had been with him, the kestrel could at least do the same. “I want to give you some time to get used to it. You said yourself that you never use the form, so it will be better if you go first, then when I shift you are less likely to freak out.”

“Oh.” Marco said blinking and after a moment of thought saw the logic and couldn’t help but agree. “That makes more sense. I’m ready when you are!”

Marco shot Jean an excited smile (after pulling off his shirt) as Jean nodded and took a few steps back to give the other bird some space. After all, neither of them knew how the other would change or how much both of their forms changed.

The process of shifting was not a painless one. A main reason why shifters tended to only shift if necessary and most would stick to their human or half forms. The process of fully shifting between bird and human was rapid although not entirely painless, but at least the amount of adrenaline usually released at this point was high enough to dull the pain for the few moments it took the body to change and adapt.

Changing into a half form was notoriously more painful to do, as the shift only released a small amount of endorphins into the brain. This causes the shift to be more painful as only a small portion of nerve endings were blocked and even this natural pain relief was temporary. Instead of with a full shift, the movement into a half form could take up to twenty minutes, thus allowing the endorphins time to wear off, further enhancing the pain caused to the shifter.

Marco’s shift was one of the shorter ones, a fact that the speckled bird was thankful for as he was only in pain for about five minutes before it faded into a dull throb as blood rushed into newly formed muscles making him feel unnaturally warm in his own skin. His head felt foggy and he blinked though the worst of it trying to clear is vision and shook his head a few times to try and stop his head from feeling so fuzzy.

He was thankful that he had warn loose fitted shorts and had thought to remove his shirt beforehand as he focused his blur tinted vision on his own body. The first thing he noted were most obviously the shear amount of his body that was now covered in a caramel coloured layer of contour feathers that were speckled with black spots that he noticed, lined up to where his freckles occurred naturally in his human form. His thighs and almost all of his calves were covered in a thick layer of the insulating feathers that only left a small gap for his ankles to breathe, which were now covered in small yellow scales that lead down to the long, sharp talons that were once his feat.

The spotted feathering continued up onto his chest, where it finally thinned out to expose his now thicker neck supported by wider shoulders. His face was mostly bare of feathers apart from a small portion where his hairline was, the thickest concentrated around his eyes and ears. His facial features remained mainly unchanged, only now his eyes were a blood red colour, made even more prominent by his now black scleras. His ears had also become more elongated as well as his teeth which were now all fine-pointed, especially his canines which were large enough to protrude over his lower lips.

His sturdy arms were covered in long speckled feathers of the same colour, although Jean could see from how Marco had his arms brought forward to examine them that the long flight feathers along the back side of his arms were the same charcoal grey to black in colour as the feathers that blead into the falcon’s hairline. On the end of each of his arms the taller bird still had hands, although they were talon like, in the way that you would expect from a wolf-hybrid, only the backs were coated in a fading layer of charcoal alular feathers.

The grey and black feathering continued in long flight feathers down the speckled bird’s back and lead down to decently long retrices feathers which formed into a tail. The speckling of his underbelly continuing down onto the inside filoplumes and semiplumes that made up the majority of the feathers on the front half of his body. 

Eventually Marco stood up straight, taking a moment to roll his shoulders and ruffles his feathers, before flattening them down again. Then he turned his crimson gaze on Jean, blinking for a moment and cocking his head to the side curiously while taking deep, long breaths through his nose.

“Jean?” Marco asked, a frown of concern starting to form on his face. “You okay over there.”

“Oh, of course!” Jean almost sputtered, too caught up in examining his companion (not that he would ever use the term outside his own head). “I should really be asking you that though. Do you feel any different?”

“I feel…” and the falcon paused a moment to find the words. “A bit out of it really. More like overwhelmed? And lighter, so kind of floaty. Mostly just trying to process all the colours and smells for now.”

“That sounds normal to me.” Jean said, and seeing the confused look on Marco’s face let out a sigh before explaining. “I was in charge of a few fledglings back home. They tend to get very overwhelmed when they do it and they need someone there to look to for answers. So all you’ve said I’ve heard before, so don’t worry about it. Give yourself a few minutes and the floaty, fuzzy feeling should fade.”

“Wow Jean,” Marco breathed with a soft smile. “Never imagined you looking after fledglings.”

“I was forced.” Jean huffed, crossing his spindly arms his chest. “Ma thought I would get into less trouble if I was watching chicks. Obviously didn’t work or I wouldn’t be here.”

“I guess.” Marco chuckled, feeling a small pang of sadness in his chest, but pushing it away. Glad for something to focus on while his head cleared. “Mothers tend to rope in the older kids to help look after the little chicks I guess.”

“Not really,” Jean muttered, wincing at the reminder. “We tend to form big crèches for most of the day, and then unfortunate souls get assigned a few to look after for the day.”

“So the families let others, not blood related, look after their chicks?!” Marco asked, seemingly horrified at the notion.

“Well yeah.” Jean blinked, stopping himself from taking a step back at the larger birds tone. “We all hunt for food as a group, so parents need someone to look after their chicks while their hunting for the flock.”

“It makes sense I guess.” Marco said frowning a bit but thankfully his head feeling a lot clearer. “I don’t really like the idea of someone else raising my chicks though.”

“You sound like my mother.” Jean said, chuckling at the comparison but not being able to hide his rosy cheeks at even the notion of Marco having his own chicks.

“Really?” Marco asked, fully invested, after all Jean hadn’t really said a lot about his family. “Why is that, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Well,” Jean hesitated, licking his lips anxiously before continuing. Seeing no harm in divulging a little bit of personal information as long as he left names out of it. “Ma is actually my Sire. But her mate didn’t survive the laying. So Ma incubated and hatched me all by herself. Not to mention she pretty much kept me cooped up indoors until I fledged because she was so scared that she would lose me.”

“Jean…” Marco breathed, but the smaller male shook his head.

“It’s alright. Ma is really tough. Honestly I’m surprised she hasn’t come barging in here.” Jean laughed with a fond smile.

“She won’t have to do that much longer though.” Marco encouraged, smiling and trying to hide the sadness still coiling in his chest. “Another week maybe and you should be able to fly. We’ll get you back to where I found you. And you’ll make it home Jean, I promise.”

“Thanks, Marco.” Jean said, chuckling at the other bird’s passionate declaration and Jean felt his own chest swell with hope and something warmer that he refused to put a name to. “Anyway, are you feeling less fuzzy now?”

“Yup.” Marco chirped, glad at the change of topic. “I’ve gotten used to it, and I don’t feel like I’m going to float away anymore.”

“Ok then.” Jean breathed, a small smile taking over his face that was mostly hidden as he stepped back and pulled his shirt over his head. “I’m good to go when you’re ready.”

Marco took several steps back and beamed at Jean across the floor, nodding eagerly for Jean to continue and keep the kestrel’s part of the deal. Jean couldn’t help his face responding and curling up into an excited smile as he took a deep breath and let himself relax. Then he started his shift.

**Author's Note:**

> Well I hope you all like the first chapter. I'm going to try and get a chapter done a week. But no promices ^_^''  
> All the cookies and rainbows flow to my amazing beta reader Hannah!! XD  
> (Who everyone should go and give all there love to here: http://liberalanimetrash.tumblr.com/ )  
> Comments are always welcome!!!!!
> 
> Also I have a tumblr for those that are interested: http://x-jeanmarco-x.tumblr.com/ (my fan blog)  
> Personal: http://nicoladarkness.tumblr.com/


End file.
